Ese Ultimo Moment That Last Moment
by luli27
Summary: Don't worry, it's in English. One shot songfic. How does Booth react when Brennan decides to take a six month job out of the country? Angst; before they're a couple.


**Ese Ultimo Momento (That Last Moment)**

**Disclaimer:** Not, neither the characters nor the song are mine.

**A/N: **Ok, so another Spanish songfic. I hope you guys are not tired of them cause there are a lot of Spanish songs that remind me of BB and inspired me to write for them. This one is a little different; for some reason I'm trying different things but don't worry I'll still keep writing my usual fluff too! I do have to warm you, though, this is angsty. The song is angsty and just called for it; I haven't really written angst since Breaking Point and I kinda wanted to try again. But don't worry, this is me so despite how much angst I throw your way, you know the end will be fluffy. Ok, this is set sometime after Santa in the Slush, before they are couple and does not fit into either the Points or Men universe; it is just a one shot that came to mind. It is a ONE shot; there's no more after it. I want to thank Puppet for all her help betaing. And now, go read, enjoy and review!! Oh, the song is called Ese Ultimo Momento by Alejandro Sanz.

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At 2pm on any normal Thursday, Special Agent Seeley Booth would usually be working. Whether it be at his desk in the Hoover building, badgering the squints over at the Jeffersonian, driving to or from crime scenes with his partner Dr. Temperance 'Bones' Brennan or interrogating a suspect, he would be working. Unless he was seriously sick, Seeley Booth wouldn't even think of being anywhere else but at work during any normal Thursday afternoon.

This was not a normal Thursday and Seeley Booth was not working. Instead, he was staying at some unknown motel, holding a glass of scotch, which he hadn't really touched, sitting in front of a TV he hadn't watched, thinking about how much a life can change in less than a week.

With a snort, he wondered when he became so maudlin. Chucking down the entire glass of scotch, he decided that a man was entitled to be a little maudlin when his entire life was turned upside down. It had all started five days ago when Booth noticed that Brennan was acting a little distracted and preoccupied. He hadn't pushed, figuring that it had to do with her book and that she would tell him when she was ready. He had been right and he had been wrong.

It turned out that the Afghan authorities had found one of the biggest mass graves in history and the services of Dr. Temperance Brennan were needed. The site was so big that they were asking for a six month commitment from her and they wanted her there inside a week. When he first heard her, he mentally snorted, thinking there was no way that she'd take a six month job out of the country.

He was so sure of her answer that it took him a moment to understand that she was telling him she had accepted. When that fact sank in, he'd felt as if he'd been ran over by a truck. By the time he had recovered, the waitress had come by and Brennan had had to rush back to the Jeffersonian. He had spent most of the afternoon in a daze; not knowing which way was up. Before the day was over, he had known that he had to talk to her; he had to make sure this was what she wanted and where that left them – if there even was a 'them'. He had picked up some Tai and gone to her apartment to talk.

_Ahora que tengo la ocasión,/ Now that I have the occasion _

_quiero que hablemos los dos:/ I want to talk about us two_

_tu, de mí; yo, de ti, del corazón¡que sí!/ you, of me, I, of you, from the hearth. Oh, yes!_

_que nunca es bueno el momento/ that it's never good, the moment_

_hasta que no hay otra opción./ until there's no other option._

_Siempre es el mismo cuento.../ It's always the same tale_

_ese ultimo momento./ this last moment_

They had spent most of the dinner talking about the latest case until Booth had found the courage to bring up the subject. When he finally did, she had gone on about how excited she was about the trip; about how long it'd been since she'd taken such a trip and how much she'd missed them. He commented that maybe she'd been having too much fun working with him, hoping that she'd agree. Instead, she'd gotten really quiet and said that she enjoyed her work with the FBI but that she missed the time she'd spent in the field, doing what she was trained to do and that maybe it was time she went back to it. He hadn't known what to say to that.

_Hoy que tenemos la oportunidad -la tengamos o no-/ Today that we have the opportunity, whether we have it or not_

_nos callaremos los dos:/ we'll stay quiet, both of us_

_tu, por mí; yo, por ti, por no enredar¡ya ves!/ you, for me, I, for you, to not embroil, you see!_

_¿por que será que lo hacemos?/ why is that we do it?_

_incluso, viendo llegar/ even when we see coming_

_ese ultimo momento, cuando no queda tiempo,/ that last moment, when there's no more time_

_cuando no queda tiempo,/ when there's no more time_

_para decir, siquiera: "te voy a echar de menos"./ to even say, 'I'll miss you."_

So, he sat there, listening to her make plans and sound excited about them. All the while thinking about what he could say, what he wanted to say and what he knew he'd never say. Wondering how she could have made that decision without even asking his opinion, only telling him about it once it was a fait accompli. He had thought they were closer than that, closer partners, closer friends; he had never thought she could make such an important decision without his input.

He had even begun to think that they might be more than just close friends; that they had something growing between them and that when they were both ready, they'd move to the next stage. That they were basically waiting until the time was right. He had been wrong – wrong on all accounts. Apparently, there had not been something more between them, at least not enough of a something for her to take into consideration when making her decision.

He'd stayed there, listening to her, for as long as he could stand it. Until it all became too much, until all he could see and hear were the death of dreams he didn't even know he had and he knew he had to get out. He had to leave before he broke and did something they would both regret. He had then pushed to his feet, startling her as she'd been so deep into some anthropological explanation that she hadn't even registered the fact that he hadn't been paying attention.

He had made some lame excuse about an early meeting and picking up his suit jacket, had almost ran to the door. Once there, he had pulled it open before turning around to study her for a few seconds. She had raised her eyebrow in question and he had just shaken his head and mumbled a 'good bye' before he finally walked out and closed the door quietly behind him. He had leaned against it and closed his eyes, knowing that was the last time he would ever see her. He stayed there until that first wave of shock and pain at that realization passed. Then he pushed away from the door and walked out into the dark night not knowing what came next, only knowing that whatever it was, she wouldn't be a part of it.

_Si vas a irte... vete, pero no te despidas;/ If you're going to go . . . go, but don't say good bye_

_sal de noche, sal a oscuras,/ go at night, go while it's dark_

_sal descalza y de puntillas,/ go barefoot and on tiptoes_

_niña vete, vete y cierra la puerta,/ girl go, go and close the door_

_que no quiero verte salir de mi vida./ that I don't want to see you leaving my life_

_No mas plazos aplazables/ no more later_

_si ha de ser así, adelante./ if this is how it's going to be, go ahead_

_y mejor este momento, déjalo/ and better leave this moment, leave it_

_para algún otro instante./ for some other instant._

_Acabemos cuanto antes,/ let's finish as soon as possible_

_nadie tiene que arrastrarse,/ no one has to crawl_

_este ultimo momento, vívelo, y los demás,/ this last moment, live it and the rest_

_los demás, que aguanten,/ the rest, the rest can wait_

_y los demás que aguanten./ and the rest can wait._

He had known it was over, had known it the moment she had announced her decision to leave as if she was stating her preference for white bread over whole grain. And still, he had hoped; he had hoped that maybe if they talked it'd be alright. That maybe it wasn't all on his side and that whatever they had meant as much to her as it did to him; that maybe it all was a horrible misunderstanding and she wasn't going. But that wasn't to be. It was done and he had faced that as he drove away from her apartment.

The one thing he had been sure of had been that he didn't want to see her again. Wrong or right, he didn't want to have to face her and tell her good bye; he didn't want a scene, didn't want to rehash what they'd been, what they'd done, didn't want to get emotional and get into things that were best left alone.

Any recriminations, explanations or justifications were pointless and asking for them was useless. If she was going to leave, if he was forced to watch her leave his life, then he wanted it done fast and without fanfare. He wanted their last moment together to be like the countless they'd spent before – just them, talking about work and having dinner. He wanted his last image of her to be as he had left her – calmly picking up after their dinner and just a bit irritated with him.

With that in mind, he made his decision and prepared to avoid her the next few days. He had gone to his office the following day and buried himself in the paperwork he always avoided; noon came and went without him going by the Jeffersonian to take her to lunch. The paperwork for their last case was sent over via courier and he didn't answer any of her calls. He called her back when he knew she was in a meeting and left her a message telling her that he was and would be in meetings all day.

At the end of the day, he'd gone home, changed and called a taxi to take him to a bar. There he'd nursed one beer all evening and waited until midnight before going back home, in case Brennan got it in her head to stop by. When he finally made it home, after checking to make sure her car wasn't in the parking lot, he'd felt like a coward who couldn't face one small woman.

But despite feeling like that, he had told the security guards the following day to please alert him if either Dr. Brennan or Ms Montenegro were to arrive at the Hoover Building. He didn't want any surprises and he wouldn't put it past either of them to show up unannounced. Both had left him more than a few messages; one wanting to talk so they could say good bye and the other wanting to know if he was just going to let Brennan go away without doing anything to stop her. He had nothing to say to either one and wasn't planning on facing them if he could avoid it.

When the call came in a little before noon, well before he was expecting it, he hadn't hesitated before grabbing his coat and rushing out of his office as if the fires of hell were on his heels. He had once again felt like a coward as he scurried down the back stairs and hurried to his car. And though it was a blow to his pride, he still drove out of the Hoover Building without looking back and didn't stop until he came to an out of the way motel, who's only recommendations were that it was out of the way, offered shelter and no one would think to look for him there. He'd registered and, before turning off his cell phone, he'd called the Bureau to tell them he was taking a couple of personal days.

_Ahora no tengo la ocasión -no la tengo, que no, que más da, ya paso-/ Now there's no more chance – no, there's no more, there's not, what can you do? It's gone._

_cuanto lamento que al final/ how sad it is that at the end_

_no hablásemos ninguno de los dos,/ we couldn't speak, neither of us_

_porque ahora nos sobra tiempo/ because now, we have more than enough time_

_para pensar que paso/ to think about what happened_

_ese ultimo momento, cuando no tuve tiempo -ni tu-,/ this last moment, when we didn't have time, neither you, nor I_

_para escribirnos versos de cuando aquellos besos./ to write verses of those kisses._

That had been around 1pm Wednesday afternoon and, other than to go buy something to eat and the scotch, he hadn't left the room. He'd been waiting for 2:30pm Thursday to arrive, waiting until he was sure her plane had left before going back home. He'd had the TV on, trying to distract himself with it, but daytime programming left a lot to be desired and his mind kept wondering back to Brennan and their relationship.

As much as he tried not to, he couldn't help but think back on what they had and what they could have had. He had been so sure that they were moving towards being more than just partners that the reality that everything was over hurt. It hurt more than almost anything in his life had and he couldn't quite grasp the enormity of what had happened. He couldn't quite comprehend the fact that she was gone, that he would get up the following morning, and all the mornings after, knowing that she was no longer part of his life and that there was no chance that he would see her.

He couldn't understand how it had all gone so bad so fast. They'd been getting along so good, investigating crimes and bickering, pushing and probing each other past their comfort zones, making each other become more than they were just by being there. He had been so careful not to ask for anything she wasn't ready to give, for anything he wasn't ready to accept. He had known it wasn't going to be easy. That it, in fact, would be very hard – on both of them; that both had uncertainties and fears.

What he hadn't expected was for her to run; he had thought that that part of her life was over. He had thought they had come further than that; that he had showed her she could count on him. That despite everything, she had known he would never leave. He had thought they'd beaten her fears. He'd been wrong. Apparently her fears were stronger than what they shared and in the end she was the one that left. And he was the one left behind, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his life.

One thing was certain, she was the one that left but he would be the one moving on. It didn't matter that fear was the motivating factor behind her decision to leave; whatever the reason, she left and that was all Booth cared about. She wasn't the only one afraid; she wasn't the only one with demons but she was the one that left. And all of a sudden, he was tired of being the understanding, undemanding one. He was tired of being the one that was always there. If she couldn't even bring herself to discuss her decision to leave with him then he wouldn't be there when she came back.

That he would be asking for reassignment was a given; he could no longer be the liaison between the FBI and the Jeffersonian. The only thing left to decide was whether he'd also ask for a transfer to a different field office. The only thing holding him back was Parker; he didn't want to move away from his son. Of course, there were plenty of parents that didn't live in the same state as their children and, thanks to Rebecca's whims, it wasn't as if he saw his son on a regular basis. Maybe he could move to the Baltimore or even New York field office; they weren't very far and he could be back every couple of weeks.

There was a lot to consider and he knew better than to make any kind of decision while he was in such an unstable emotional state. He'd wait a few days before making a decision and submitting the paperwork. But the transfer option looked more tempting the more the thought about it. Not having any risk of running into her sounded more than good to him. Six months should be more than enough time to get over her but, if the way he felt at the moment was any indication, six years wouldn't be long enough.

His heart stopped for a minute when he noticed than the time was 2:32pm. Her flight had left. He closed his eyes for a minute and just tried to breath. When he opened his eyes again, that gleam that had always been present in them was missing and they looked dull in its absence.

_Si estas oyendo, vuelve,/ If you're hearing this, come back_

_ni siquiera saludes;/ don't even say hi_

_con la luz de la mañana,/ with morning's light_

_abre puertas a patadas, niña./ kick open the doors, girl_

_Vuelve, que no hacen falta razones./ come back, we aren't missing reasons_

_me muero por verte, volver a tenerte./ I'm dying to see you, to have you again._

_No mas dudas razonables,/ no more reasonable reasons_

_para mi no es comparable./ it's not comparable for me_

_este ultimo momento me robo/ this last moment stole_

_el milagro de tenerte a cada instante./ the miracle of having you every moment._

Twenty minutes later, he had checked out of the motel and was on his way back home. He knew he had to start planning; he knew that the rest of his life was in front of him and that he needed to muster up some enthusiasm for it. But he decided that he could do that later. The only thing he felt capable of doing at the moment was just be; he didn't want to think about the past and he didn't want to plan for the future. He just wanted to be in the moment, to put one foot in front of the other and get through the day - the rest would take care of itself.

Some time later, he finally made it home. He was so intent on getting inside that he failed to notice the silver car parked a few spots from his parking space. That was why he was so surprised to enter his living room to find someone waiting for him.

"Bones?" he asked, as he came to a stop just inside the living room, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"Where have you been?" Brennan asked sharply, not bothering with a greeting. "I've been waiting all night for you!! They told me that you had called in sick and you weren't answering your cell phone! I thought something had happened to you. I was about to go file a missing person's report!"

"What are you doing here?" he asked, ignoring everything she had said because he still didn't understand what his eyes were telling him. "I thought your flight left at 2:30?"

"I wasn't on it," she said impatiently in a 'that's obvious' tone. "Now, where the hell have you been?" she asked again. Booth looked at her for a few moments before shaking his head and walking towards the kitchen.

"Out," he answered simply.

"Out? Out!!" she repeated, as she followed him into the kitchen. "That's all you have to say? You were out?" she asked, incensed. "You've had me worried sick not answering your phone or returning any of my calls for the last two days; you didn't come home last night and all you have to say for yourself is that you were OUT?"

"Yes," he said, again, after a few seconds contemplation, as he brought the bottle of water to his lips and drank deeply. As she opened and closed her mouth to say something, he idly thought that she made a very good imitation of a fish.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she finally asked. "You've been incommunicado for the last two days and you knew I was the leaving the country today. That is not like you; what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he answered with a careless shrug. "I just felt like taking some time off is all."

"Without telling me about it?" she asked, incredulous. They never went anywhere without letting the other one know about it. Heck, they rarely went to bathroom that the other one didn't know it.

"Yes," he answered again. "I don't always run everything by you, you know? Just like you don't always let me know what you're plans are," he told her, more sharply than he intended, as he walked by her and went back into the living room.

"I . . . I," she said, once again opening and closing her mouth without saying anything. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before following him back into the living room. When she got there, she saw that he had sprawled on the sofa and was channel surfing. "Booth," she snapped, coming to a stop in front of him and putting her hands on her hips. "How could you just disappear like that without letting anyone know where you were? You knew I was leaving the country today!"

"Yes," he agreed, as he lazily shifted his eyes up to her face. "How come you're still here? You should have been on that plane; aren't there people waiting for you?"

"They can wait!" she cried out, exasperatedly. "How the hell was I supposed to leave without saying good bye to you, when I didn't even know where you were?!" She asked, as she leaned closer to him. She didn't understand what was going on. She had been waiting for the past two days for him to appear so that they could say their good byes but he had been MIA.

He hadn't answered any of her calls, hadn't been in his office and she couldn't concentrate on any of the plans she needed to make before leaving. Finally, in desperation she had come to his apartment the night before only to find that he wasn't there. She had waited all night for him, knowing that there was no way she was going anywhere until she saw him.

"How could you have . . .? Just going," he repeated, in a disinterested tone, "You could have just gotten on the plane and left," he added in a matter of fact tone and a shrug. "I don't see why whether you saw me or not, whether you knew where I was or not would make a difference."

"You don't see . . .?" she asked, incredulous. "Booth how can you say that?! Of course, I wouldn't . . . I couldn't leave without talking to you first!"

"I don't see why not," he said again as he shifted on the sofa and took another drink of water. "You had no problem making the decision to go on your own, without talking to me. This wasn't that different."

"Of course it's different," she argued, even as she thought that Angela had been right, once again. She had told Brennan that Booth was probably somewhere licking his wounds; that it couldn't have felt good to be informed of such an important decision and not consulted on it. Brennan had dismissed the comment but Angela had insisted that Brennan had hurt Booth with her latest bid to show she was still independent and free.

"Maybe I should explain the reasons for my decision," she began but Booth cut her off.

"There's no reason for you to explain anything," he said in an offhand manner. "It's your life and you're free to do what you choose with it. Just as I am and I've decided that you're right. It is time to move on, so I've asked for reassignment. I won't be the FBI liaison when you come back. In fact," he added, enjoying the dumbfounded look on Brennan's face. "I doubt I'll even be in DC when you finally come back."

"What?" she asked, unable to understand that what she was hearing was real. "You can't be serious; you can't just end our partnership like that," she argued, "without talking to me about it first."

"Why not?" he asked her and for the first time she saw how hurt and angry he was. "You did." The accusation was short and to the point and it stopped Brennan in her tracks.

He was right, she thought, as she sat down on the sofa next to him. She had made the decision to effectively sever their partnership by herself, without talking to him first. She had been selfish and the fact that she had been running scared was no excuse. She had no grounds to ask for anything when it was her own actions that had precipitated everything.

And yet, she hadn't gone. She'd known almost from the beginning that she wasn't going to go; that even if she did, there was no way she would have stayed the full six months away.

"What did you think?" he was asking and she had never heard him sound so bitter. "That you were going to go on your merry way, have fun with your bones for six months and that I'd still be here waiting for you when you were done? That you could just decide to put our partnership on hold for six months and that when you came back everything would just go back to normal? I'm sorry but things – life doesn't work that way," he told her, almost scornfully.

"I. . . I don't know what I was thinking," she admitted quietly. "I couldn't," she continued but so quietly that Booth didn't hear her.

"What?" he asked.

"I couldn't, Booth," she told him in a louder tone, looking him in the eye. "I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't go; I haven't packed, I haven't done any of things I needed to do. I thought it was because I didn't know where you were, and as true as that was, I'd have found something else to distract me if you'd been around. I just . . . I couldn't go," she repeated with half a shrug. "I'm sorry," she added.

"What for?" he asked, wearily. Her confession had been unexpected and he wasn't sure what to feel anymore.

"For making the decision without talking to you about it first," she told him, sincerely. "For hurting you by doing that; for not knowing that I was once again running; for taking you for granted and thinking you'd still be here waiting for me – even though I hadn't talked to you about it. But most of all," she said, as she leaned forward to take his hand and look him dead in the eye," for thinking even for one minute that I could go and leave you. I can't. You mean too much to me; what we have means too much to me to do to that to you."

_Acabemos cuanto antes,/ let's finish this as soon as possible_

_con un siglo habrá bastante./ a century will be long enough._

_este ultimo momento es de los dos/ this last moment belongs to us both_

_y los demás que aguanten,/ and the rest can wait._

_no hay más dudas razonables,/there are no more reasonable doubts_

_para mí no es comparable/ it's not comparable for me_

_este último momento/ this last moment_

_me lo dio por culpa de un instante/ I received as a result of one instant_

Booth looked into her eyes and saw how much she meant what she was saying. And even though he'd have liked to keep his anger and hurt, though he knew it'd be safer if he kept them, he couldn't. He couldn't look into her eyes, see how much she meant her apology, see how much she regretted her actions and not forgive her. Almost against his will, he felt all the hurt, anger and desperation of the last few days drain from him.

"I can't do this again, Bones," he said, sighing. "I can't walk on eggshells around you, wondering if you're going to get it into your head to leave again."

"I won't, Booth," she insisted. "I promise. This was an, . . . . aberration. I won't do anything like that again. I'll probably receive offers I'd like to accept," she began but he interrupted her.

"I have no problem with that," he said, earnestly. "I know how much that part of your job means to you, how much you enjoy it. I'd never try to keep you from it."

"I know," she nodded. "You just want me to talk to you about it first," when he nodded, she added, "And that's fair. I promise to do so." Booth nodded and shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch. She did likewise and soon they were sitting side by side watching TV. After a few moments of silence, she asked, "now what?"

"Now," he answered as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, "we enjoyed this moment together and let tomorrow wait and take care of itself."


End file.
